#I've been waiting for this for MONTHS now

[succubusvalentine]

Simon Riley and Phone Sex. CW : phone sex, dirty talk, sex toys, masturbation.

Simon had been on a mission for almost a month now. You'd done everything to keep yourself busy.

You had cleaned the house from top to bottom, gone to all the flea markets within an hours drive, and used the toy Simon got you a while ago more times than you could count.

You were sat in bed with a tub of ice cream, a sight that would have Simon telling you to put it back in the fridge because you aren't getting it on the sheets.

You furrowed your brows as your phone rang, it was far too late for anyone to be calling you at the moment. You were about to let it ring out, before you realised that it could be Simon.

"Simon?" You asked hopefully as you answered. A shiver running down your spine as you heard a familiar deep chuckle.

"Excited to 'ear from me, Swee'eart?" Simon asked.

"'Course I am! I didn't think you'd be back in service until you landed back here"

"Though' so too. But the mission finished up faster than we thought. We're staying the night in Berlin. Fly back in the mornin'"

Simon could hear the hitch in your breath from your excitement. And he chuckled again. 'Missin' me that bad?"

You made a needy noise before you could stop it. And you could practically hear Simons brow raise.

"How many times have you touched yourself to the though' of me while I've been gone, hm?"

"So many, Si"

"Touch yourself again so I can hear how wet you are f'me" Simon growled.

Immediately you shoved your panties down, wetting your fingers in your mouth before rubbing your clit in figure eights. a small whine coming from you immediately.

"Got no idea how much I miss you baby. Miss your cunt too. Fucking hand hasn't been good enough. Miss how tight and warm you are. Sounds you make" Simon growled as you began to hear the slick sound of his hand on his cock.

You gave up with your fingers and hastily grabbed your toy from your bedside table. Turning it on and letting it begin buzzing against your clit. Your moans filling the bedroom.

"Simon" you whined "please, please 'm close"

"Know you are, princess. You're doing so good. Come on, Come for me. Be a slut f'me"

You made another desperate sound, only egging Simon on. "Can't wait to watch you bounce on my cock. To taste your sweet cunt again. Fuck, I miss how sweet you taste f'me"

You let out a loud moan as you came. Your thighs clamping around the toy.

As you slowly recovered, you heard the familiar mix between a moan and a growl that Simon let out as he came.

"You alrigh', Princess?" Simon asked. And you made a small sound of agreement. Making him chuckle. "Get some sleep baby, I'll be home early tomorrow. I love you"

You murmur an exhausted 'love you too' before sleep overtook you.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

[technofeudalism]

imagine living your entire life and being this naive and optimistic about the country you live in. yeah. everyone in the United States is equally enraged about Green Card and Visa holders being kidnapped off the street. that's why there's hundreds of thousands of people marching to stop it.

no one is actually waiting until this effects them to act. that's crazy talk. there's definitely no historical precedent for that behavior either. people are saying "oh no citizens could be next" out loud over and over and not actually doing anything or forming any sort of meaningful resistance is because of the media, who has been playing videos of Mahmoud Khalil and a whole assortment of other students being charged with terrorism without due process for the last month now, on EVERY major news outlet in the United States.

corporate media simply groomed grown adults into thinking none of this is happening. it isn't antipathy or self preservation or selfishness or xenophobia. and it's just a coincidence that they qualify every statement with "well, if they TRULY weren't supporting Hamas....." as if that matters whatsoever when it comes to the 1st Amendment.

that's why Trump's approval rating has cratered to a devastating *checks notes* 47%.

let's check and see how Americans actually feel about abducting people who aren't "US citizens" right now!

WASHINGTON, March 26 (Reuters) - U.S. President Donald Trump gets better marks for his hardline approach to immigration than he does on his handling of the economy, foreign policy or other issues, Reuters/Ipsos polling shows, as the Republican tries to ramp up arrests and deportations. About half of U.S. respondents in recent polls approved of Trump's approach to immigration compared with a little more than a third who thought he was doing a good job dealing with the high cost of living, the other major issue in his 2024 campaign.

wow! i wonder if this number will wind up shifting whatsoever when the first "American Citizen" gets tossed in the back of a van for saying mean things about Elon Musk online. i wonder how people would react to that. i wonder if 49% of the American public would still approve of Trump's "immigration" policies if it was a white, blonde, Christian college student rather than a Muslim from some "weird nation" in the Middle East.

i'm sorry that i insinuated that the American public doesn't see immigrants as citizens or even human beings. it's just a coincidence that 40% of the country approves of putting immigrants in concentration camps while they await deportation. i've simply miscalculated the average American's passion for immigration reform.

every single article, post or mention of a Muslim or Latino person on a Visa or Green Card getting dragged off the street by masked men in broad daylight has the same exact comments: "wow, they're gonna start doing this to citizens soon." some of these people have lived here since they were 8 months old and have lived here for over 30 years. it's very telling that Americans are still are managing to separate them in their head from a "citizen" and that their outrage will be far greater when it's someone who "actually lives here" as if 3 decades in the same country shouldn't qualify you for the same rights as everyone else.

[treefish815]

I've talked about this a lot on other sites, but as a queer man and OG fan of Kingdom Come Deliverance, I really want to talk about the canonisation of Hansry in KCD2 and just how healing it was for me as someone who escaped through this game and the ship hard as a young teenager.

Look, I just need to put out into the world how much it meant/means to me, and I think of all places, Tumblr will probably appreciate it the most. I also just kinda want to write it for myself because I've never written ALL of this out and it's something I've been thinking about for nearly 2 months now, so it's a little long, which is why it's under the cut.

So, I've been playing KCD pretty much since it released, which was when I was about 12. Living in a conservative area as an effeminate, sensitive, very obviously and loudly queer little boy, at around the age of 11 or 12 I reached a point in growing up when I think the people around me realised it wasn't just a weird little kid phase, and that I really was a faggot, and, as I'm sure you could guess, I suffered a significant amount of bullying over the next 3 years.

But, as silly as I feel saying this, KCD was an escape from that for me. I was miserable in my own life, so, between the ages of 12-15, I threw hundreds of hours into KCD1 dedicating myself to Henry's life instead. And I think there 2 big reasons why I latched onto that game in particular over others- the world was so immersive and beautiful that it was easy to get lost in it, and Henry and Hans's relationship. (It's also just a great game- but there are dozens of great games that I played in that time that never quite captivated me in the same way).

Putting aside the fact I had a fat crush on Hans, his and Henry's relationship was something I always looked forward to watching the development of every playthrough, and I would often spend a good chunk of my playthrough not actually advancing the main quest to instead make up (usually very angsty) little scenarios where their relationship evolved into something more. I'd follow Hans around Rattay and pretend he and Henry were secretly in love but could never show it, lest they be beaten and ostracised, or have conversations to myself while sitting with Theresa where I would imply that Henry had to be with her for his own safety or to distract himself from Hans, that type of thing. Considering I never thought to write KCD fanfiction until this year, I would've had a LOT of material if I'd started then, but I digress.

My point is that Hansry was something that, in a way, I think I used to cope with the homophobia I was facing. They were characters who lived in a time where they could never openly love each other, Henry was a character who could stand up for a queer monk who was being ostracised in the monastery when no one else would, Hans was a character who put on an act of arrogance and "I don't give a fuck" that we can see in more serious end-game moments isn't 100% true to his personality much as I did at a younger age to pretend what was happening to me didn't bother me, and I just... connected so strongly with them.

I've been waiting for KCD2 for 7 years. In those 7 years, I always wistfully hoped for there to be a possible Hansry path to go down, but never in a million years did I think it would ever actually happen. I'd been to KCD Twitter. I'd been to KCD YouTube. I knew the anti-woke and by extension mildly homophobic section of the fandom was far larger than I'd have liked it to be, so as much as I yearned, I knew in the bottom of my heart that Hansry would forever just be a silly little daydream of mine.

But, that brings me to 2025. I'm nearly 19, I've been living in arguably the most progressive and queer-friendly city in my entire country for 3 years, I'm openly queer and haven't heard a negative thing about it since I left my hometown, I'm happier than I've ever been and have almost no anxiety in my day to day life, and I cried for a good few hours when I watched the Hansry romance scene for the first time.

I'd seen a spoiler that Hans was the main male love interest a few days earlier, and that had WORRIED me. I thought either 1. it would be a drunk fuck that was played entirely for laughs and that ultimately meant nothing or 2. it would be a tragic story that no matter what you did, could only end badly as an attempt to uphold historical accuracy (which... could be done well, but I thought it would probably be hard for me to play through and could spark its own form of homophobia in the fandom wherein people specifically had that outcome happen to stick it to the gays, or whatever. I'd seen someone on Steam complaining that Hans was the male LI because it meant he couldn't kill him and "protect Henry from the potential of sinning" and it really stuck with me.)

Holy hell was I wrong. Daniel Vavra, you may be kind of a cunt on Twitter, but I will sit back and let you cook from now on before I make a judgement.

I cannot tell you what an incredible feeling it was to see those two characters, who I escaped through and who I adored with my whole heart not only both canonically be bisexual, just like me, but also actually have a loving, and intimate romance scene (seeing the intimate naked making out when I'd been so afraid of a drunk, no strings attached fuck was such a strange feeling of relief) after 7 years of desperately wanting that even while knowing there was no way Warhorse would ever go through with it considering their target audience. That alone would have made my year, even if they did have an unavoidable tragic ending no matter how hard Henry tried to salvage it.

But there was another thing about their romance that really really stood out to me, and that was so unbelievably healing. Their romance is generally... quite happy. They never experience homophobia first hand. They never go through the whole "it's a sin... we should stop seeing each other..." rigmarole. They're never found out and outed to the wrong people who try to tear them apart.

Sure, Hans is engaged to a woman against his will, but as a noble, that was always a strong possibility regardless of whether the person who truly has his heart is a blacksmith's son or a butcher's daughter. And it's never even a suggestion that his marriage would end his and Henry's relationship- Hans's angsting over the marriage comes more from the fact it's out of his control and will give him less freedoms than he currently has. And yes, their story is filled to the brim with angsty moments, and so much death or near death, but that's completely separate to their love story- they suffer just as much if they're best friends as they do if they're lovers. The queerness is not the angst, the war they happen to be living through the beginnings of is the angst.

Henry and Hans are two men, in love in a time when they could never openly be together, in a time when most people around them would object to them being happy together and living true to themselves, and yet they have a happy love story anyway. And, as silly as it sounds, I don't care, I'm going to say it anyway- that positive portrayal of their love felt like telling my 12 year old self that everything would be okay, and he wasn't doomed to be miserable for the rest of his life. Because if those characters he identified so strongly with could be happy in their queerness when living in arguably worse circumstances to be queer, why couldn't he? As much as I processed the trauma of the bullying I was going through through angsty plotlines involving Henry and Hans, and as much as I'm an angst lover period, that... that healed me. It was like hugging my younger self.

As much as KCD is just a game and Hansry is just a gay ship, it's always been something that means so much to me, and this silly little video game romance made me realise just how far I've come and how different things are for me, while simultaneously comforting that past version of myself who still lives deep inside me somewhere. I feel him less now than I did in January 2025, and that's insane.

"No one asked for this!" the snowflake conservatives cried on the steam discussion boards in their 1 star reviews of a game they boycotted and never bought. The 12 year old boy who processed and coped with traumatic homophobic experiences through those characters did.

Representation does matter, and always will.

[pokemonshelterstories]

My eevee and my vulpix were best friends until they evolved. My now Jolteon tries his best to play with my ninetales but she won't have it. (Shes trained enough to not catch the house on fire but she has definately tried to curse him a few times.) She evolved first and seemed to enjoy his company as an eevee but it seems like she can't wait to get away from him. This has led to us rotating who gets house time and who has to be in their ball. I don't think this is sustainable but I've had them both for over a decade. Do I need to let them figure it out? My jolteon is starting to behave poorly, I think because he's lonely or maybe anxious? He's only been evolved for about four months. I'm really at my wits end and I really don't want to rehome one of them. I'll take any advice you care to give.

hm...out of curiosity, have you noticed your ninetales' fur being really staticky ever since your jolteon evolved? ninetales are pretty particular about the way they're touched, and especially if your ninetales has drought as an ability, she's going to be super prone to static shock because of how dry the air around her fur will be. jolteon pretty much always have at least a low level of electric charge in their fur, so i bet he's shocking her. as for his behavioral difficulties, jolteon are fairly well known for being sensitive to changes, and they tend to respond to changes by charging up more electricity in their fur...which would then further the issue.

i can't guarantee that this is what's going on, but i think it's worth looking into, because there are sprays and shampoos you can use to help prevent static shock and specialized foods for pet electric types that can help reduce the amount of electricity they generate. unfortunately, you may ultimately have to reintroduce them at this point if your ninetales is reacting so poorly to your jolteon. i do think this is likely something you can resolve, but it's going to take time and effort. definitely check in with their vet to make sure there's nothing going on medically, too.

[writingunderneathawillow]

novelty (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

content warnings: smut, mdni pretty please, first time, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, female reader, soft bucky (i love him), established relationship, fluff word count: 2.6k a/n: i'm lowkey thinking about making this a series, but one where every part can be read as a stand alone? i've got so many ideas, basically all of them about bucky and inexperienced reader trying new things. is that weird?

Bucky and you had been dating for a month now.

He was always so sweet to you, making sure you felt comfortable with everything he did.

He never wanted you to feel like you had to do anything other than what you were willing to do.

The first time you stayed over at his apartment, he had even offered to sleep on the couch which had left you laughing and feeling luckier than anyone else. You declined this and both of you spend the night entangled with each other in his bed.

On the night of your one-month anniversary, the two of you sat together on the bed after a fancy dinner and lots of flowers. When the light outside faded and the sunset coloured his bedroom in golden hues, you kissed him. Half lying on him, half sitting on his lap, your lips crashed onto his, relishing in the flavour of him.

Your hands ran through his hair while his fingers ghosted over your waist, holding you closely to him.

His tongue moved against your slightly parted lips, pushing them apart and exploring the inside of your mouth.

With a gentleness that contrasted so strongly with his usual demeanour, he cradled the back of your head with one hand and rested the other on the small of your back.

A moan escaped his mouth which seemed to bring him back to reality and he gently pushed you away to look at your face.

He took in your glassy eyes and warmed skin, slowly dragging his knuckles over your cheek.

"We gotta go a little slower," he rasped, keeping his hand against your cheek.

"Why?" You asked, a shy smile curving your mouth.

"Cause you're killing me when you do... this," Bucky replied, smirking as he looked you up and down.

Your smile expanded and you looked at him through heavy lidded eyes, desire coursing through your veins.

"Maybe that's the plan," you confessed and gazed at him, waiting for his reaction.

He took in a sharp breath, fingers twitching on your sides as he seemingly struggled to hold himself back from taking you up on your offer.

"Doll," he rasped quietly, muscles flexing under his shirt as he pulled you flush against him.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Yeah, I do," you retorted, your fingers wandering over his neck and into his hair, slowly dragging between his locks as you met his lips again.

His breath stuttered against your mouth and his hands slipped underneath your shirt, ghosting against the clasps of your bra.

Then he pulled away again, his cheeks flushed and eyes hungry with desire.

"This is a big step, sweetheart," he whispered, and held you at bay, taking in every micro expression of your face.

"I'll wait as long as you want," Bucky insisted.

"I don't wanna wait," you replied, scrunching up your eyebrows. "I'm ready. I wanna do it... with you."

For a few seconds, he closed his eyes, relishing in your words. His mouth corners twitched as if he was fighting a smile.

"Are you sure?" He asked then, cupping your face in order not to miss a single sign of uncertainty.

"Yes," you answered and there was no room for doubt in your voice, simply excitement.

If a smile could truly light up a room, it would be Bucky's right now.

He leaned back in to kiss you again, this time with more vigour.

Breathless and messily, your faces connected while his hands traced shapeless motions on your bare stomach. He fumbled with the hem of your shirt, taking his time in peeling away the layer that separated the two of you.

You could tell that he was slowing himself down, letting you feel every inch of his patience in his movements

When he finally rid you of your shirt, his eyes hungrily darted over your body, taking in all of you.

Excitement pooled in your stomach along with some nerves that sparked little bolts of electricity underneath your skin.

To even out the playing field, you began to take off his shirt, dragging the material over his chest and slowly exposing more of his skin.

The low lighting in the room bounced off on his abs, highlighting the dips and crooks.

With a feathery finger, you slowly traced the lines on his abdomen, travelling further south. His breath hitched and he reflexively caught your hand.

You looked at him and saw a hint of a smile on his lips when he grabbed your other hand as well, bringing them above your head. He inched closer to you and played with the waistband of your jeans, one hand slipping towards the button and zipper.

A feeling which was a mix of lust and nervousness coursed through you as he removed your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear before him.

Again, he let his gaze wander over you before conquering your mouth in a wet kiss, that sent heat between your legs.

You hooked your ankles behind his back, pulling him in closer.

The material of his trousers was rough against your bare skin, every shift dragging across you. Pressed up against him, you felt his clothed arousal digging into your core and it made your stomach flutter.

Bucky’s lips travelled down from your lips to your jaw, then your collarbone. He stayed there a while, sucking and licking the sensitive skin until he was satisfied with the blooming red underneath that promised a deep purple mark tomorrow.

When he looked up at you, chin hovering just over your breasts, the breath was stolen from your lungs.

His pupils were dilated with lust and there was a faint line of saliva around his lips. To see him like this, absolutely taken with you, it made you lightheaded with joy. The fact that you had this kind of effect on him eased your nerves.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice rough but attentive.

“Yeah, better than okay,” you replied, and he nodded.

“You just tell me when to stop, alright, doll?” His gaze was fixed on you, sure not to miss a single indication of you.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you answered truthfully, writhing a little underneath him with pure yearning.

You felt the damp patch in your panties as you shifted around and almost wished that he wouldn’t be so considerate. A hunger that you had never experienced like this before had taken a hold of you and it only increased when he started to unhook the clasps of your bra.

He looked at you like you were a masterpiece, a painting that should be admired by billions of people when his eyes followed every contour of your exposed body.

It would have been instinctual for you to feel just a bit self-conscious, your body bare before his eyes, just covered by your panties, but how could you when he looked at you like that. Like you were born to be pressed flush against him, born to be his.

His tongue trailed down between your breasts, leaving a trail of him down to your belly button.

Only then he began to take off his pants, the tent in his boxers leaving you speechless and clenching your legs together a little.

He smirked as he saw the tremors in your legs, one large hand brought down to rest on your thigh, so close to the hem of your panties.

“Nervous?” He asked, no trace of cockiness in his voice as he fixated you with his eyes.

“A little. But the good kind,” you responded truthfully.

“The good kind,” he repeated, a husky chuckle following. “Alright.”

With one swift motion he advanced closer to you on the mattress and rested his hands on your hips, just on the edge of your underwear.

He hooked his fingers into the material and slowly, torturously freed you of them. With the phantom of a smug grin did he drag the pad of his thumb over the wet patch on them before dropping them to the ground.

Now, fully bare before him, the nerves returned fully. You closed your eyes, trying to slow your heartbeat and get lost in the sensation of being exactly where you wanted to be.

Only when Bucky softly spoke did your eyes snap back open.

“Sweetheart? Do you wanna stop?”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh.

“Not at all. I just… need a second.”

He nodded and said: “Take all the time you need.”

It didn’t seem possible for your heart to be any fuller with adoration for him but with words like that, it was seconds away from bursting.

You pulled him back towards you, connecting your lips with his and felt his tongue drag along the entrance of your mouth, teasing your until you opened up.

While his tongue explored your mouth, his right hand dipped down between your legs, brushing up ever so gently against your slick folds.

An exhale caught in your lungs as you felt his fingers toying with you, gathering your arousal and coming up against your clit for a few seconds.

He deepened the kiss, and you bucked your hips towards him, looking to replicate the feeling of his hands on you again. You felt him grin against your lips, but you were so high on his touch that you didn’t care.

One of his fingers circled your entrance and he pulled back to look at you, wanting to take in your face as he pushed into you.

A stifled gasp broke from your lips as you felt him slowly widening you out, pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch against you, still covered by his boxers. “Gonna take a second to get you ready.”

He added a second and then a third finger, filling you up so deliciously that you couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips.

“You like that?” He asked, still as attentive and focused on you as before.

“Yeah,” you replied, nothing more than a shaky gasp as you felt your insides tighten around his finger, sucking him in greedily.

Your head swam with oxytocin and when he brushed up against your clit with his thumb, your whole body began to quiver.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, not that Bucky showed any inclination to do that. You searched for something to hold onto, digging your nails into his back as he continued to encircle your clit, giving you the friction that you needed.

Heat was building up in your lower stomach like a knot coming closer to detangling with every single movement of his. You felt the warmth spread to your neck and chest, the pressure strengthening with every second that passed until it broke. The knot unravelled and you came with such a force that you had to press your mouth against his shoulder as blinding satisfaction flooded your veins.

Bucky continued to work you through your orgasm until you caught your breath and looked up at him with gleaming eyes.

Next to the craving in his eyes was pride. In you, in himself, in the connection that you shared.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead that gleamed with sweat, and you closed your eyes, radiant with the burn of your release.

When your breathing evened out, you parted your legs again, allowing Bucky to fit himself against your body. He took off his boxers and his cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach. Beads of precum wetted the pink tip.

You held your breath as you appraised him and a second of doubt clouded your mind. His dick was a lot bigger than just his fingers. But when you looked at Bucky and saw the adoration plastered across his face, you breathed out your worries and nodded.

“I’m ready,” you said and meant it.

He cupped your face and replied: “You just tell me if I gotta stop, ok? I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I know.”

He beamed down at you and then moved forward until he lined up with your entrance.

With his hand he slowly guided himself in. You felt the stretch immediately, but it didn’t hurt. It was more of a burning sensation that excited you.

Bucky kept his eyes on you, searching for signs to stop.

Since there were none, he moved further, and you held onto his muscular arm as he spread you open.

Bucky groaned as he felt your walls flutter around him at the same time as your nails dug into his forearm and it took a lot for him to not fully push himself into you.

He gave you time to adjust, to shape yourself around him. It was a snug fit, but sensually so, you could feel every vein on his dick.

When you nodded again, he pulled back a little only to then move further into you as your walls allowed for him to enter your almost completely.

You weren’t sure which one of you felt more bliss in this second.

The sensation of him filling you out, stuffing you to the brim until you thought you could never feel lonely again, spread through your body and sent warm shock waves into your limbs.

He trembled in you, clearly enjoying the sensation of being enveloped by you and then bridged the last uncovered inches of his dick, fully filling you out until the hairs at his base tickled against your skin.

A moan broke from your lips as you felt the spongy tip of his head kiss a spot so deep within you.

After a few seconds of letting you adjust again, he began to move his hips, pulling out almost fully only to snap his hips against your again.

He sat a pace that kept him on edge and almost sent you into your next orgasm. When he added a finger to your clit, swift motions flicking against it, you had to ground yourself by gripping the sheets to not immediately give into your release.

Sweat beaded from his forehead and mingled with yours.

“You’re so perfect,” he gasped, as he pumped into you, “So fucking perfect.”

You felt lightheaded and fought to come undone so quickly, but his praise made your velvety walls flutter, and you knew he could feel it.

“So fucking amazing,” he whispered, now almost teasingly as he increased the pressure on your clit, dragging the mix of your wetness and his precum across the sensitive nerves.

“J-James,” you hiccupped, holding onto his shoulders.

He silenced you with a kiss, wet and sloppily dragging his lips against yours while keeping intense pressure on your clit.

“Come for me,” he panted, “I know you want to, doll.”

A sound that you didn’t even know you could make parted your lips as his words pushed you over the edge, while he relished in the feeling of you tightening around him. Blinding white lights filled your vision as you rode out your second orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured into your ear as the aftershocks of your release coursed through your body.

He increased his pace, hips snapping back and forth against you and as he saw your eyes, glazy with satisfaction, he let himself go.

You could feel his spent coating your walls, painting your insides with his cum while he groaned, lips pressed against yours.

He sank onto you, careful not to squeeze you under him and closed his eyes while he caught his breath.

With your head still in the clouds, you caressed his back until he declined onto the mattress, pulling you snug against his chest.

[dirtyvulture]

I did what had to be done 😊

I've been waiting months to write this scene, but yes working on the next part now :)

The Maid - Part 4

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 2245

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: Thank you for the continued support! You all make my day with your comments and theories. :)

Read part 3 here.

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

You sit at the kitchen table nervously, drumming your fingers on the wood. You knew Wanda would be home late–she never had the respect to give you a proper timeline for her outings. The clock tells you that it’s a little past midnight, and sleepiness burns in the corners of your eyes, but you told yourself you aren’t going to bed until this is all over. 

You run the lines over in your head. What you want to say to her exactly, what you’ll counter with if she reacts well or poorly. You’ve waited long enough to have this conversation, perhaps too long, but Natasha finally gave you the push you needed.

“Do you still love her?” Natasha asks softly after you tell her the whole story of your wife’s philandering. 

You don’t answer. Deep down, you know your love for her was being tested to its breaking point, and you weren’t so sure it would survive after this. “I’ll talk to her tonight, when she comes home,” you say. “You should probably go home. I can’t imagine it’ll be a pretty conversation.”

“I’ll stay if you want me to,” Natasha insists. “You shouldn’t be alone to do something like that.” Your heart melts, and for a moment you want to get up and kiss her. Not that you wanted to pull a Wanda, but you couldn’t ignore how beautiful and generous your maid was. She was excellent at her job; never complained and went above and beyond, even when your wife was being a total bitch. She treated you with the respect and kindness you deserved. She was everything you wanted in a partner and more. 

But you were stuck with Wanda. For now, at least.

“Are you sure? Wanda might be home late and I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay just for me,” you say. 

“It’s fine. She won’t even know I’m here. I can leave out the back door,” Natasha says.

“Thank you, Natasha.” Her support means more to you than you’re allowed to express. 

“You’re welcome.”

Now, with Natasha hiding in the kitchen, the two of you wait.

***********************************************************************

You accidentally doze off and wake with a start when you hear the garage door open. For a moment, you don’t even remember where you are or why.

“Natasha? Are you still here?” you whisper as loud as you dare.

“Yes.” Her head pokes out from around the corner of the kitchen.

Relief fills you. You were worried she would ditch you after all, not that you would’ve blamed her in the slightest. “Wanda’s home,” you tell her, and she nods and disappears again. At least you didn’t have to face your wife entirely alone.

You sit rigidly still on the couch until your wife walks in, almost passing you at first. 

“You’re back,” you say, and she jumps, reaching for the light switch and revealing you on the couch.

“I said I’d be back tonight,” she says.

“Who were you out with?”

“My girlfriends.”

“No.” You stand up and walk over to her. You are a great deal taller than her and for once she looks like she feels her size around you. “Who did you go out with tonight?”

Wanda doesn’t make eye contact with you. “You know…Carol, Darcy–”

“Are you fucking them too?”

“Excuse me?” Wanda draws back from you until she bumps into the bookshelf.

“You heard me,” you say through clenched teeth. “Were you fucking them too?”

“No. Why the hell would you think that?”

“Because I know you spend all your free time fucking anything that moves behind my back.”

The silence in the air is electric. Your heart is thundering in your chest so hard you wonder if Natasha can hear it. Wanda’s eyes widen. 

“I...I’ve never done that,” she says, but her falter shows her lie. “How dare you suggest–”

You take your phone out and show Wanda the screen. She squints at it in confusion at first, then a shadow of horror passes over her face when she realizes it’s the camera view from the little ceramic turtle you planted in the china cabinet, now showing the two of you standing there.

“You hid a camera in my own home–” Wanda starts.

“I hid a shit ton of cameras in our home,” you say. 

“So this is why your business is failing,” she cackles, and the switch in topic throws you for a loop. “You spend all day watching and stalking me in our home when you’re supposed to be working. No wonder you don’t bring home any money. Not only are you a shitty spouse, you’re also a shitty worker.”

Anger explodes inside of you, and for a moment your control slips. You lunge for Wanda, not even sure what you’ll do once you grab her, but she slams her palms to your chest and sends you staggering back. She turns and yanks a book off the shelf, removing a revolver from the pages and pointing it towards you with trembling hands.

“Don’t get any closer to me, you fucking creep!” she yells.

Your anger dissolves into concern. “Put the gun down, Wanda. Please. Let’s just talk about this like adults–”

“Oh, now you want to talk like adults?” Wanda laughs manically. “Where was this before you started illegally recording me in my own home?”

“You’re fucking cheating on me!” you scream, losing your composure again. “I moved us into this big house, in this nice neighborhood, and you’re just so fucking ungrateful for any of it!”

“I didn’t want any of it to begin with!” Wanda returns.

“Why not? Because you had to leave behind your fuck buddies in our old neighborhood?”

“You’re the exact same person here as you were over there. A self-righteous piece of shit,” she seethes.

“If you’re so sick of me, why don’t you divorce me?” you ask. “Oh wait.” You snap your fingers. “I bet no one would want to sleep with a washed-up divorcee. Because where’s the fun in that?”

Wanda turns the gun around and points it at her temple. “I’ll kill myself if you divorce me,” she says, then shifts the gun to point towards her chest, “But I’ll make it look like you did it.”

The blood in your veins chills at the thought. “Give me the gun, Wanda.”

“Take it from me,” she goads.

While you have very little confidence in your disarming tactics, you do know you’re stronger and faster than Wanda. You also don’t fully believe that she’ll kill herself right here, so that gives you an advantage of time. 

Before a plan even forms in your head, you reach out with your arm and slap Wanda’s hand away from her head. She startles and drops the gun; you expect her to dive after it but instead she whirls around and punches you in the face. Despite all of her faults, she’s never outright hit you before, and your vision swims as your head whiplashes against the bookshelf. 

“You crazy motherfucker,” Wanda screeches, punching you again and you fall to the floor, instinctively curling into a ball to protect yourself. Her foot slams into your ribs and for a second, you can’t believe you’re getting the beating of a lifetime from your own wife.

Meanwhile, Natasha is in utter shock at the events unfolding in front of her. She feels like she’s overstepping some serious boundaries, but she can’t leave you now, especially with Wanda having the upper hand. 

“Wanda, stop!” she hears you gasp as Wanda grabs hold of Crime and Punishment uses it like a weapon, raising it behind her head and smashing it against your body over and over. Natasha can’t bear to stand there anymore. She has to protect you from your insane, deranged wife.

Natasha crosses the living room in four leaping strides and picks up the revolver. Wanda looks shocked more by her presence than the fact that she’s now staring down the barrel of her own gun. 

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” Wanda says.

“Get away from Y/N,” Natasha says, holding the gun in both hands. The weight feels disconcertingly familiar, and despite her nerves, she isn’t shaking.

“Are you fucking her?” Wanda suddenly turns to you. “You’ve got some nerve watching me get it on with the neighbors when you’ve been fucking our maid–”

“Shut up!” Natasha yells. “I’m not doing anything with Y/N!” she says, although she wishes that wasn’t the truth.

“I don’t believe that.” Wanda marches over to Natasha, leaving you unraveling on the floor. Blood drips from your nose and mouth, and Natasha can see the purpling bruise on your cheek. “Vision told me Y/N took you to see Wicked on my anniversary–”

“Because you couldn’t be bothered to remember and go yourself!” Natasha says.

Wanda is too enraged to quiet. “How dare you enter my house, take advantage of my kindness, and take my partner to bed–”

“Back off!” Natasha says, raising the gun until it’s almost level with Wanda’s eyes. “Not everyone is a cheating whore like you.”

Both Wanda and Natasha seem shocked by her choice of words. Natasha’s arms shake as they drop a few inches. She won’t hold back anymore–but neither will Wanda.

“You little bitch.” Wanda draws her arm back. Natasha flinches and squeezes the trigger.

BANG.

The gunshot is much, much louder in an enclosed space, and Natasha’s ears ring so hard they hurt. Wanda stands before her, her jaw dropped in shock. A stain of blood grows on her shirt, centered over her bellybutton. 

“Oh my God. Wanda, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Natasha gasps, unable to wrap her head around her own actions. 

“You…You shot me,” Wanda says, grabbing her stomach as she falls. Natasha tries to catch her but misses; you appear behind Wanda and lower her slowly to the floor. “How is that possible?” She looks up at you and your face is pale with shock. “You fucking shot me!”

“Nat,” you whisper. “Nat, give me the gun.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Natasha cries, handing you the weapon and backing away from the two of you. “I thought she was going to hit me and–”

“It’s okay.” You stand up, wobbling a little, and rush to her side. “Go home Nat, okay? Go through the back door and jump the fences if you have to. And if anyone asks where you were tonight, you weren’t here.”

“No, no.” Natasha fights the tears threatening to spill out. “That’s wrong. I did this, I want to take responsibility for it–”

“No,” you say. “With your background, you’ll be locked in prison the rest of your life, if you don’t get deported first.”

“M-My background?” Natasha stammers. “How do you know about–”

You shake your head, indicating now is not the time to have this discussion. “For the record, it never made me trust you any less.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” You reach out and grab her hand. It calms Natasha instantly. “Go now. Let me handle this. I’ll come find you when this is all over.”

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha sobs.

“It wasn’t your fault. Now get out of here, please!”

Natasha doesn’t wait to hear you instruct her again. She looks at you, her savior, one last time, completely ignoring Wanda laying on the floor, before dashing off towards the garage. It’s pitch-black, but she doesn’t dare turn on a light, and fumbles for the back door. Outside, the air is nippy and her breath clouds in front of her face. She takes a deep breath to orient herself, then runs headfirst towards the neighbor’s fence, hauling herself over it as quietly as she can, crossing their yard, and leaping over the next fence. 

She has to jump over two more yards before she gets to the street, racing to her Nissan and peeling away down the street. In the safety of her car, the realization crashes over her and she can’t stop the waterworks. 

She can’t believe she shot your wife. She can’t believe you knew her background. Clint had told her no one would find out what she had done in Russia after she assumed a new identity, but you had found out somehow. And yet, you were still okay hiring her even after you knew she had killed her former boss. 

The sounds of sirens pierce her thoughts and Natasha seizes up. A black-and-white police car races by. Either you had called them, or a neighbor had heard the shouting and gunshot. Natasha prays her presence had gone undetected. She had never been more thankful Wanda forced her to park down the street, where her car was less likely to be seen. 

She wonders if she’ll ever get to see you again.

***********************************************************************

After Natasha leaves, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings. Wanda is gurgling and crying on the floor, pressing her palms against her stomach, blood spilling through her fingers and on the tiles Natasha had mopped earlier that day.

Your grip tightens on the gun as you move to stand over Wanda, where she can fully see you. Your body throbs where she hit you, and you know you don’t look much better than her. Blood bubbles out of her mouth. She can’t speak anymore, but her eyes are fiery and pleading.

You lift the gun, which feels like a thousand pounds in your hand.

“Someone should’ve done this a long time ago.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Welp, that escalated quickly. Will Wanda live? Should she?? 👀

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[for-a-longlongtime]

WIP on Wednesday Thursday

Well, first of all, my WIP folder is currently looking like this:

But fuck it, we ball right?

I got tagged by @din-cognito and @avastrasposts this week, and @the-blind-assassin-12 and @lotusbxtch last week, so I've got some catching up to do! I've been all over the place working on different docs, so you're getting a few tidbits this week.

I've posted snippets of this before (and lo! a hozier title! I'm gonna have to change that though because the story ended up going differently than planned), and after it having been on hold for months, the pieces are coming together at last.

let me wrap my teeth around the world (working title) | Santiago x Frankie “You think we did the right thing there?” Santiago says, staring at the ceiling as he avoids Frankie's eyes. Unsure he really wants to hear the answer, because of how likely it is that he is the only person who can’t answer that with a decisive yes. Fish was the only one on their team - besides Tom - who'd had a family to take care of, who needed that money probably more than any of them did because of his pilot license being suspended. “I mean... Following his lead with the money.” No answer. The deafening silence lasts for much too long. Santi grimaces as he closes his eyes. Shit. Why did he even ask? He keeps fucking up like this.

Next we've got a WIP that I haven't worked on in a bit (it wanted to go on break, bummerrr) but that I'm hoping to pick up very soon.

Untitled | Reynaldo x Matthew It’s those large hands that draw Matt’s attention first.  That, and the golden chain partially but-not-quite hiding under that checkered golf shirt, glistening every now and then in the bright afternoon sun. It’s almost as bright as the gleam in Sophie’s eyes when she throws back a shot and listens to the older man introduce himself as Reynaldo. Matt is only vaguely aware of the prepared talk that the man launches into, a few words standing out, such as ‘exclusive members only’ and ‘the best golf club in all of Arizona’. Things that everybody wanted to hear, and that gave Sophie all the more opportunity to coo at the man how this was ‘one of the best premium golf clubs’ she’d ever been at. It probably isn’t all that premium though, considering the Scotts and Dale had been able to book this place on a budget. And truth be told, it’s still unclear to Matt why they are here on a ‘vow renewal bachelor staycation’, which seemed a contradiction on its own. Or even why Sophie showed up here, acting like one of the guys, just long enough until she found someone who was willing to give her the attention she was clearly looking for. He’d seen the pattern before, especially with the girls on the Kel-squad. None of that matters though, he tries to remind himself as they make their way up to the golf course. He’s simply glad to get away from Kelsey for a couple of days - not just for some peace and quiet, but also so he doesn’t have to wonder if she’s talking to Domingo every time she smiles at an incoming message on her phone.

Finally, this last one is still in the VERY early stages, but ngl... I'm excited. Thank you to the folks who encouraged me to keep going with it! This is hella out of my comfort zone but what the hell, that's where the fun is, right? This one is going to more filth than I'll probably be able to shove into an one shot... so it may end up becoming two or three parts. We'll see.

for glory (working title) | Harry Castillo Harry is speechless, shock painted over his features, and it takes him a moment to find his voice. "You wouldn't dare to," he finally manages to say, and what had previously been surprise in his eyes has now flipped into unmistakeable rage. "Mmm, is that so, Harry? What - you think I've got morals or something?"

EDIT: WAIT!! I forgot to add one final excerpt! This is from a yet to be decided chapter from Joel and Marcus Moreno' story. I spent way too much time trying to find the right face claim moments for them at different ages, and this is what I settled on for their mid-twenties:

Joel in his mid-twenties (a.k.a. Zach Wellison in Brothers & Sisters)

Marcus Moreno in his late twenties (a.k.a. looking like Comandante Veracruz from the Burn Notice movie).

Yes, I'm as shocked as y'all are about the latter, but I promise it'll make sense. As for the excerpt:

Untitled series | Joel Miller x Marcus Moreno Marcus folds his arms as he leans back against the wall, looking every bit the charismatic guy most people know him to be. But Joel has known him a long time and can see where the varnish has cracked, and the parts he so desperately tries to cover up.  "So you don't like it. How I look. You don't like me anymore," Marcus says after a moment, and there’s something about all that combativeness on display - as well as the bitter irony of those words - that hits Joel much harder than he was prepared for. He doesn’t have the same defense system that Marcus clearly is equipped with; the mask that he can put on and off so easily after years of practice. So he just shakes his head. "Think it's been too long since you've had someone push back against you, M." "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joel tries to hide his sigh by drinking from his coffee, but the beverage has gone cold, the stale taste of it now bitter on his tongue in a way that feels oddly specific to this situation. "Don't pick a fight with me because you're unhappy, Marcus," he says softly.

I know a lot of y'all already posted a WIP Wednesday, so I'm just gonna link a couple of folks, no pressure as always (apologies if you've already made your weekly WIP update):

@perotovar @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem @qveerthe0ry

@letsgobarbs @gothcsz @milla-frenchy @guiltyasdave @oliveksmoked

@magpiepills @arcanefox207 @reallyrallyauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @clubsoft

@romanarose @the-blind-assassin-12

[sirius-blacks-official-girl]

James: Lily...i have to tell you something.

Lily: What?

James:.. I might have... Kissed Sirius..We were drunk!

Lily: Oh. Okay, yeah I know

James: I KNOW WHY YOU'RE MAD AND I GET THAT-wait what?

Lily(motioning between James and Sirius' beds that have been moved together to make one large bed) : You guys.... Aren't dating?

James: What? No, I'm dating you! I didn't even know I liked him until like, six months ago!

Lily: WHAT?

James: WHAT?

Lily(Grabbing James' face) : James Fleamont Potter. You have been in love with Sirus since 4th year and him BEFORE THAT. anyone with eyes can see.

James:

James: Yeah I have liked him since then

James: I'VE LIKED HIM SINCE THEN?

James: WHY DIDN'T I TELL HIM?

Lily: I DON'T KNOW?

James: But-what do I do?? I like you! I can't like Sirius!

Lily: James. I have news for you. I LIKE SIRIUS.

James: Oh.

James(Offended) : OH?

Lily: James. You like Sirius. I like Sirius. I'M PRETTY SURE SIRIUS LIKES US.

James:..... OH

Lily: Yeah, "oh". Now come on you absolute idiot, you're bright red and we need to figure out how we're gonna tell him

[yuuchama]

A small cluster of freshmen knelt in front of Riddle. The white trousers of their dorm uniforms were stained with grass from being on the ground for so long, just as Riddle's heel was sunk into the dirt from standing in place for an hour.

The housewarden brandished his staff at his underclassmen. "Do not forget. Rule 228 so clearly states that flowers in gardens must never be picked on Wednesdays. If I catch you again, there will be serious consequences."

No one dared raise their eyes. "More serious than this?" somebody whispered under their breath.

It was drowned out by a sharp bark of "you are dismissed!"

The freshmen did not need to be told twice. They clearly learned the importance of following rules, and wasted no time in staggering to their feet. With a "Yes, housewarden!", they fled.

Riddle huffed. His job wasn't easy. Back in the Heartslabyul kitchen, Cater and Trey were waiting with a spot of tea and a fresh slice of fruit pie - the best remedy for fury.

Riddle stabbed his fork into the flaky crust. "These incoming freshmen have no decorum or respect for the Queen's rules. They are an utter disgrace."

"They're new," Trey explained. He draped a napkin over Riddle's shoulders. "With a little time and a few heart-to-hearts, they'll settle in."

Cater turned his phone screen off and placed it down on the table. What he was about to say was important. "Chin up, Riddle! You just have to speak their language!"

"I am certain we already speak the same language, else they wouldn't have enrolled here." Half of the pie served well to make Riddle calmer. He already stopped squeezing his fork and was more conscious about crumbs falling off the plate.

"No, no. I mean, you have to think like a freshman! These kids grew up in a totally different era from you and me," Cater clarified.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Even though they're only a year or two younger?"

"Exactly!"

Trey was getting a bad feeling about the whole situation. "They've only been here a month," he reminded them. "Everything is still so new. Most are living on their own for the first time."

"Riddle needs to get with the times!" Cater insisted.

Trey flinched. This was not going to end well at all.

"Explain," Riddle ordered.

"Learn the lingo that everybody's using these days. If you speak to with the freshmen in clear language that they understand, communication will be a piece of cake!"

"Anyone up for another slice of pie?" Trey tried, and failed, to change the subject.

"If only it were that easy." Riddle wiped a spot of cream off of his lip while mulling over Cater's advice. "What do I need to say for them to listen?"

Cater leaned over. This was important intel the housewarden needed to hear. "Instead of that long, difficult lecture, try being like, 'Hey, freshies! You've gotta obey the code, don’t be grabbin’ flowers on hump day or you’ll face mad heat. Capiche?'"

There was a long, slightly uncomfortable pause. Riddle's eyes went wide. He mouthed Cater's sentence, trying to make heads or tales of certain words. Words he knows very well, but would ordinarily never be used in such context.

"I don't think I've heard anyone use 'capiche' outside of a mafia movie," Trey mused.

"This... is how our freshmen are used to talking?" Riddle asked.

"Oh, yeah. This is how all the lit youth be vibing with each other now."

Riddle knit his brows together and pushed his empty plate aside. "This is worse than I thought. Trey, gather the freshmen. They must be taught the importance of proper speech. I won't stand for Heartslabyul students besmirching our dorm with incomprehensible slang."

Cater jumped up. "Now hold on, Riddle. I think you're misunderstanding something!"

Trey, having choked on the tea he was sipping, coughed. "T-that's right. Hold on a second, I think Cater is exaggeratin-"

"Nonsense." Their housewarden stood up and folded his napkin. "I have to nip this in the bud before it becomes a serious problem. We're having a dorm meeting."

[brotherwtf]

Ice skater Gale/Marge with hockey player Bucky. Bucky came to practice early that day cuz he got the schedule wrong and saw the ice skaters practicing. It’s like those movie scenes where the character fall in love at first sight, the widening eyes full of wonder and the slight gasp. That’s how Bucky is when he saw Gale. He began to call his whole teammate and said if they knew the gorgeous blonde figure skater. Some begin to accompany him to watch the figure skating practices. All of them thought he has a crush on Marge at first. Only clarifying much much later when he walked in with Gale kissing him a good practice and they’re all like, “Oh…”

The twist is that Bucky didn’t know Gale’s been crushing on Bucky for 8 months before Bucky even began noticing him. So to everyone it’s Bucky the one who’s pursuing the ice skater without fail while Gale’s screaming with joy inside like, “YES YESS FINALLYY!!” He’s been manifesting that shit fr

LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS AU ANON ABSOLUTELY ABSOLUTELY

imagine John walking in early bcs he has to talk to his coach and he notices two skaters on the ice, literally does a fucking double take because of how beautiful they are

gorgeous and blonde, perfect in every sense of the word but John can't take his eyes off of the man, so serious but so effortlessly pretty, he glides across the ice in a way John has never seen before and the teammate he came with literally has to shake him to get his attention again, laughing and saying "yeah those two are here everyday before practice, stunners, truly," and John feels a stupid spike of jealousy because how has he NEVER noticed this beauty before?

his teammates have to drag him to the locker room lest he just stand there and watch for like four hours and John begs anyone to tell him if they know who they are, maybe he can get their number and he learns that they're "Gale and Marge, they practice everyday before us, go on Bucky I think you can totally make a move!" thinking that John's interested in Marge but John's actually interested in the other blonde beauty, the one with the serious eyes and the clenched jaw

John starts going to practice early just so he can catch a glimpse of Gale, cherishes when it's just him on the ice whenever Marge isn't there, watching him leap and spin and twirl with his eyebrows furrowed together, panting and looking so so so beautiful, God John's basically in love with him, and one day he just saunters up to the edge of the rink and smiles his ever charming smile when Gale finishes his routine, waving when Gale notices him at the edge of the rink

"that was beautiful," John whispers when Gale skates over to him, smiling at the pretty pink flush that paints his cheeks

"you're Bucky, right?" Gale asks, leaning on the edge of the rink, shockingly close to John's arm, he could reach out and hold him if he wanted to

"at your service," John grins and Gale rolls his eyes

"I'm Gale," he says, extending his hand out to which John takes in a firm handshake

"So I've heard, I've been watching you for a little while now. You're really something, it's impressive," John says and Gale huffs a breath shaking his head on a small smile

"yeah well I've heard of you, too, best goalie this side of Wisconsin, huh?" Gale asks and John laughs out loud, a beautiful ringing sound that echoes throughout the rink

their banter goes on like that for weeks, John watching Gale before his practice and Gale claiming he was waiting for a ride when he stayed for John's, even though John knows Gale takes the bus and it stops its route long before John's practice ends

and one day after John's practice, when he comes back into the locker room all gorgeous and flushed and sweaty and panting, Gale pulls him in by the front of his jersey and tucks them into a little corner, finally putting his lips on John's after years of waiting, and John follows with gusto, throwing his helmet and his stick to the ground to put his hands on Gale, equally as desperate as him

yeah and Johns teammates walk in on them and while Gale's horrifically embarrassed John just tells them all to fuck off, taking Gale's hand and grabbing his stuff haphazardly before dragging him to his car where they continue their heated make out sesh :))

good au... big fan of this

[whysodelirious08]

E.M - The One That Got Away. SHORT

Hurt/No Comfort.

Please Reblog with hashtags. It helps! 💗

A/N: Not Proofread. Just wanted to write some hurt/no comfort angst. Asshole Big Shot Eddie. Not gendered (I think) and based around 1998. Eddie is in his thirties I believe.

Warnings/themes: Relationship ending, headache, accused cheating, strained relationship, long-term, neglect on Eddie's part, swearing.

Edit: I have made slight changes just so ik it's not gendered in Eddie's choices in partners. Making it gender neutral.

---------

"What do you want from me, Eddie? Seriously- what do you expect?"

Your voice was filled with frustration and pain, months worth. Years even. The only sound that accompanied your defeated tone was the padding of your pacing steps followed by a drawn out sigh turned almost growl coming from your fiancé.

"I dunno. A bit of- of understanding maybe? You think this hasn't been hard for me-"

Eddie tried to bite back but, in all honesty, it just made you angrier.

"Understanding? Understanding! Wow- that's all this takes? Who would have known! All I've ever given is understanding, Eddie! Years of it!"

Your voice cut his cleanly off. Louder now. Standing just a few steps from him. But you didn't give up quite yet.

"When your tour went on longer because you added on shows, all I said was; yes darling, I understand. When you wanted to go sight-see in the cities on the way back, all I said was; sure, go ahead! When I couldn't get ahold of you for a week, I convinced myself you were just travelling. Just didn't have signal. You were just tired. But we both know the truth. Don't we, Eddie? Huh? I have always given you the benefit of the doubt. Always!"

The tears streamed now, your hands in fists as you let out all of the thoughts. Everything you had sworn to keep to yourself. But, in the moment that this argument had started, you realised you didn't need to keep it in. Not to protect him. Not to burden yourself.

"Everything. Everything, Eddie. I did for you! And all I ever asked for. Was for your love. For you to come home to me at the end of it all. To just be mine. And even that was too much to ask for..."

"I never- I swear I never even touched another woman-"

"Sure. Sure, Eddie. Let's say that's true. You Sure as hell looked though right? Or is it if you don't look it doesn't happen. So if you fucked those girls with your eyes closed, it didn't happen right? That's what you joked about with your band mates. Right?"

"Babe, it was just a joke- I would. I- I'd never. Please just- why do you always have to make things bigger than they actually are-"

You slipped the ring off your finger and practically launched it with murderous intent at his face before you walked away. And by the sound of it, you had made contact enough to hear a wince and hiss.

"Go marry one of those groupies. Then you can cheat on them and they wouldn't even care. Get out. You've got a show to do. Don't want to keep your fans waiting, Mr Big Shot. And don't ever call me again. A decade of my life wasted on you. I hope you rot Eddie Munson."

Your voice echoed in his mind that night, and years to follow. The years touring. The partners he had and pushed away all because he let the one he truly loved get away. All because he let it all get to his head. He had the fame. The fans. The world in his palm. But his world had slipped away. Fallen. Broken free. Rightfully so, but there wasn't a moment it didn't torment him to insanity.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Fuck it Friday Saturday

I was tagged by my lovely @bidisasterevankinard (Diana you're the love of my life thanks for tagging me, it makes my heart warm every time ♥) Soooo I'm kinda cheating a bit, cause I posted this as snippets of make me write, but now I've organized it into a whole thing that shall be finished and posted soon (hopefully!). It's from New Tides, ch. 1!

Buck is, there is no sugarcoating it, freaking out. 

There’s fifteen minutes left until Tommy is supposed to pick him up, and Buck still isn’t completely sure he won’t call and pretend he is sick and can’t go after all. Because he’s about to go on a date with a dude, and although that isn’t weirding him out at all (he is an ally, for Christ’s sake!), he’s so nervous it feels like his heart will fall out of his mouth. 

He’s halfway to reaching for his phone when it rings on its own, and Buck is so worried that it might be Tommy canceling on him (and despite of what he was thinking five minutes ago, he’s sure he’d be devastated if that were the case) that he doesn’t even look at the caller ID before answering. 

“Hello?!” He answers, checking his hair on the mirror for what has to be the tenth time in as many minutes.

“Stop freaking out, Buck” Maddie’s voice answers from the other side, and Buck, despite himself, feels a little calmer at hearing his older sister’s voice.

He hadn’t initially planned on telling Maddie about his date with Tommy, at least not until he was sure of what was going on. But Chim had blabbed to her about the whole ‘asking Tommy out while on painkillers’, and Buck had ended up telling her about Tommy showing up at his loft. To his relief, his sister had been completely supportive, the only teasing coming from the fact he had to be high to finally admit that guys were hot.

Right now, though, he’s extremely grateful that Maddie knows, because she’s the only person who might be able to talk him out of his mental spiraling. 

“I am not freaking out!”, Buck exclaims, but he knows there’s no fooling Maddie. “Okay, I am, but Maddie! What if this is a mistake?”

“Why would it be a mistake? Don’t you want to go out with him?”

“Of course I do! But what if I mess it up? You know that’s very likely to happen.” Buck says, pacing up and down his living room. He hears Maddie sigh very audibly on the other side. 

“Buck. Don’t let your head keep you from having something nice. Please? You deserve it after the last few months.” She says, almost pleadingly, and Buck’s heart skips a beat. 

He does deserve something nice after having his leg crushed by a firetruck, then spending his whole summer trying to get back on his job only for an embolism to ruin his plans, and then being in the middle of a literal tsunami. Tommy Kinard is the first really nice thing to happen to him in a long time, and he’s already finding a way to Buck it up. 

“You’re right”, he admits to Maddie. “I… I need to get out of my head about it. It’s just dinner, right? No big deal.”

“Definitely not a big deal”, Maddie agrees emphatically, and Buck takes a deep breath, his heartbeat slowing in his chest. “Go, have fun with your hot pilot. I love you”

“Love you too, Mads”, Buck tells her, and then they hang up. 

He’s still not totally calm, but he’s feeling better. This is something he’s always been good at; flirting, dating, getting to know someone (getting them to stay is where you run into trouble, a treacherous part of his brain tries to add, but Buck is determined to ignore it for now).

It won’t be any different just because Tommy’s a man, he reasons as he sprays on his favorite cologne. Buck still wants to flirt with him, get to know him. Definitely kiss him again. So why was he getting all nervous about it? He’s totally got this. 

There’s a knock on his door. Buck’s heart plummets all the way down to his knees. 

He doesn’t got this, in fact. But it’s too late to back out, and Tommy is waiting for him outside his door like a perfect gentleman, and Maddie raised him right. So after a deep breath and a slight wiping of his sweaty hands on his dark jeans, Buck opens the door. 

To find Tommy Kinard with an honest-to-God bouquet of sunflowers in his hand and a sheepish adorable smile on his face.

Np tagging @agentpeggycartering @laundryandtaxesworld @dum-amo-vivo9 @jamieroyjamieroy @unhingedangstaddict and whoever else would like to join! (if you want you can consider this your tag for Inspiration Saturday since Friday is over for a lot of folks already!)

[oonajaeadira]

where you been, adira?

Yes, I've been on here at least once a day just to scroll and take a few breaths, because it's... been a time.

I AM JOEL MILLER I'm currently working on a show that opens tonight. Hence the little extra breathing time this afternoong. (Normally I'm at the theater 4 hours a night, but the show is only 75 minutes, so I get a little more time to myself from here on out.) The SO and I are both in it though (it's his company), so it's nice to spend time with him on a project we both love.

It's a devised, modern retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, but set in 50s/60s Appalachia. There are no sets or props, we make everything with our bodies, including the 4-part harmony shape note singing and a few mountain folk songs I have to carry. It's a lot of physical work, but it's a beautiful show.

Red is a girl that grows up in a small mountain town. She has no parents, so spends time rotating between caretakers, and is told that her place is to stay at home and not go into the woods with the woodsmen. But she loves the woods and when she's a teenager, one of her adoptive fathers makes a move to assault her and she runs away into the woods.

There she meets a solitary woman (me), a grouchy root worker/conjurer with a past of her own (it's revealed that she had a daughter about Red's age that wandered off into the woods and died out there). The two have trouble getting along at first, but they end up healing each other.

I was explaining this to @grogusmum on a polo the other day and she said she basically said it out loud at the same time I did.... "so I'm/you're basically Joel."

Not me finding inspiration in the damnedest of places.

My costume, no lie, includes a green plaid flannel. With the sleeves rolled up.

.

MY HEART NEEDS FIXING I often get heart flip-flops, extra beats, that kind of thing. I went to a cardiologist about 6 or 7 years ago once when it went on for a whole week and they took an ultrasound and basically told me "less caffeine, more sleep, more exercise."

It still comes and goes, but clears up on its own.

Until this January.

When it lasted a whole month.

So I went to my doctor. They took blood and ran all the tests. They hooked me up on machines and slapped a 24/7 monitor on me. When the monitor results came back, I got a message from my doctor: "Go to Emergency Services. Today."

I spent that day, that night, and then next day in the ER, and @feathersandfoxtails can attest, that place is a little crazy, but ultimately everyone's really nice and took good care of me. I must have talked to 30 different doctors, RNs, residents, learning teams, including at least 5 cardiologists. I had 2 EKGs, 2 ultrasounds, a stress test, 5 different blood draws from an IV, and was monitored all night (you try sleeping when your blood pressure cuff goes off once an hour). And this week, baby had her first MRI, which I actually found rather relaxing.

The diagnosis is that I am not in any immediate danger of attack or failure, my pump is good and my heart structure is normal and healthy.

What I have is bad wiring that sends extra signals. It's probably been there from birth and is now just coming to light. So I'm on medication to keep my adrenaline low (so I don't faint--low possibility, but they're just being cautious) until mid-April. Then they're gonna go into my heart and burn away those bad wires. It's endoscopic (and I'l be awake on the table????), so I'll most likely be in and out in a 12 hour span. (They have to wait until my show closes because of the physical activity.)

Weirdly, I'm not stressed out about it. Everyone's been very kind and responsive, and I trust my care team explicitly. Modern medicine is fascinating and amazing; I am in good hands.

.

ALL THE OTHER STUFFINS ...is not exciting. It's onboarding this year's batch of 90+ artists to help produce all of their shows. It's reading 48 show proposal applications in a week's deadline and winnowing them down to 1/4 of that to help another organization to produce. It's writing 2 high-stakes recommendations for colleagues that are highly worthy of the fellowships they're applying for. Both the SO and I are in "show mode" which means the cleaning doesn't get done and the dog is often lonely so the house is a mess and Gordy is a bit more anxious than usual.

It will get easier after this weekend.

.

WHAT'S GOING ON AROUND TUMBLR It's heavy stuff out here. I want to iterate that I'm reading everything and I care very deeply and want to support. The last couple of weeks have been a lot. Forgive me if I need to process and don't have the energy to engage right at this moment. I love and support you all so much.

.

WRITING I'm officially on a writing break for a bit. I thought maybe I could catch some moments, but once I landed in the ER and we ran out of time in tech to do line work I said, nope, Adira, you rest. Rest so you can be ready when Joel comes back around...which will be the day after you step out of his shoes onstage and turn it over to P on the telly.

There's a lot to be excited for. And a lot more time to fandom around.

Give me a second and let me catch my (literal and metaphorical) breath. I'll come back around soon.

<3

[bekkathyst]

Man driving back and forth between home and Salzburg 3 times and over 2 days was just all for nothing in the end. I gave them all the paperwork they wanted, an income way more than their minimum to finance something (the minimum required income is 1200 a month which isn't even enough to live off of), and told them all the information they wanted only for the bank to reject me at the last second. I'm really annoyed because they basically said I am completely unable to get any kind of credit with them at all and they can't tell me the reason. They said if I want to find out why I'd have to directly contant the bank myself. The guy working at the store said it was most likely because I haven't been here long enough but then how am I ever supposed to build up any type of credit when they're denying me after being way overqualified for a dinky little phone?! I've been here almost 3 years and I don't owe anyone any kind of debt and I've been paying taxes and everything. Also Austria isn't even supposed to really have a credit system, at least not like the US but this is exactly what it feels like. It's a stupid phone. I'm not trying to get a car or a house. Just a phone. I just don't understand but this is so frustrating and I'm feeling so defeated. So I guess all I can do for now is use Antonio's phone for all my work and wait until I can buy one outright which sucks but whatever.

[veryofficialtangotekfanzine]

Hello again!

I feel like I've been a bit too vague with my explanations so far... I didn't mean for this. That's mostly why I have the asks open hehe!

But here I will try to tell you everything I want you guys to know!

I am aiming for one picture and one short story for at least most of the series that Tango has been in! It really depends on how many people will join and how much they are willing and able to do. But the aim is to try and get one picture and one short story for every series if we can!

I keep saying applications start the first of April and I should be more specific I realized for people who want to know exactly when they can sign up! I have a post sheduled for when it starts but you can expect that April 1 8:30am EST! AND it will last the entire month so you don't have to rush too fast to sign up! So it closes April 30 11:59pm EST.

And I've said we wanted both artists and writers but you don't have to be one of those! I've got some cosplayers saying they'd love to join so that's why I've changed the word art to picture!

This is all my brain can come up with for now... But if you have any questions about this PLEASE ask! People asking me questions is how I get information out the best! So thank you all for showing interest and I can't wait to work with all of you!

[dragon--ashes]

DURIN AND ELROND FIC *LAST CHAPTER* AT LONG FUCKING LAST✨️🥳

I SAID IT WASN'T ABANDONED!!

I'd like to thank the unmarked van that decided to try to follow me (thankfully not too near where I live) in the dead of night for scaring me so bad I've been cooped up in my flat the last two days😃(I am safe and well, I sprinted away and am fine, just frightened of the world now lmao)

This is INTENSE sarcasm, look after yourselves out there and yeah, trust your gut and run like hell when you need to

BUT AT LEAST I GOT TO WRITE WHILE HIDING.

Albeit mildly hungover

2025 has been a Bitch™ so far, so in a confusing few months of relapses, death in the family, and a concerning reliance on apple juice, I've finally summoned both the enjoyment and the motivation to write✨️

(Do not fear for my sanity, I am doing better)

Thank you all for joining me on the chaos that this thing has been.

LA BAH

Chapter summary:

Darkness approaches, Durin and Elrond are both preparing for what is to come. For now, they must wait until they can reunite.

Snippet:

"None of us want to fight, but if we don’t, then our children will."

Also also, this is only the end of this fic regarding season TWO. When season three picks up, and we finally/hopefully get an Elrond and Durin interaction, I shall cheerfully pick up my keyboard and clack away at some more letters💙🩵

For now though, enjoy! :))